


Bachelor Party

by taylor_tut



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bachelor Party, Fever, Gen, Sick Character, Sick Lance (Voltron), Sickfic, klance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-26
Updated: 2017-11-26
Packaged: 2019-02-07 00:29:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12829419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taylor_tut/pseuds/taylor_tut
Summary: For a tumblr prompt: How about a prompt where we have a sicky with a really high fever, borderline hospital fever, and they're too out of it to care for themselves let alone call for some help. So when sicky's friend comes over, wondering why sicky wasn't answering their calls, they nearly have a heart attack and struggle to take care of sicky. Bonus points if more and more friends just keep getting dragged into the mess like 'help me with this idiot please'





	Bachelor Party

Keith was irritated that Lance hadn’t been answering his calls. Between the two of them, they were planning Hunk’s bachelor party, and between Keith not knowing how to plan a party for shit and Lance’s tendency to procrastinate, Hunk and Lance’s apartment had been nowhere near ready when Keith had left the night before. Lance had reassured him that he’d spent this morning decorating if Keith just worried about getting the cake and the stripper. 

He’d done both, but Lance had been unreachable all day, so Keith had no idea how ready the house was.

 Shiro was only planning to distract Hunk for another hour, and Keith had a sinking feeling that Lance had been avoiding the calls because he was scrambling to finish decorating and that it would look haphazard and unplanned.

“Lance?” Keith called as he knocked. When he got no reply, he dug for his key, grumbling the whole time. “First you don’t pick up your phone, and now you won’t open the door,” he muttered. “I knew I should have had Shiro help instead.” The celebration may not have been as extravagant with the broganes behind the wheel, but at least there’d for sure  _be_  a celebration.

Keith threw open the door and set the cake down on Lance’s table with a huff. Looking around the room, he felt anger surge in his veins. The streamers weren’t up–Lance hadn’t even unwrapped them–and none of the food or drinks were set up. 

Silently, seething, Keith began to set up the things for the party. He thought about getting Lance out here and tearing him a new one, but that would take too long, and besides, it would be a more satisfying visual to yell at him after he’d already set up the party all by himself. So he worked.

It didn’t look as good as Lance’s decorations would have. Somehow, that made Keith angrier, and by the time he was ready to pound on Lance’s door, he was absolutely livid.

“Lance!” he shouted, “get out here! People are going to get here in like five minutes, and Hunk’s only fifteen minutes away!”

Keith didn’t hear him even stir.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Keith grumbled, throwing open Lance’s bedroom door, “ _Lance.”_ Lance was… asleep?

That was unusual. 

On another day, Keith would have been worried. But today, he wasn’t even thinking that something could be wrong with Lance. It wasn’t even a possibility that crossed his mind. It wasn’t out of cruelty, even thoguh he’d regret it later. He was simply distracted and stressed. 

He grabbed the blankets on the bed and ripped them away violently, startling Lance into a seated position.

“Whu’z–?” Lance asked articulately, blinking hard. 

“Get up,” Keith ordered. “You’ve got five minutes before guests get here.”

“Hunk’s party,” Lance realized belatedly. 

“ _Duh_ , Hunk’s party,” Keith snapped. “Which  _I_  finished decorating for;  _you’re welcome_.” 

Lance didn’t reply, so Keith turned to get the door as someone started to pound on it.

He greeted Pidge and Coran–Allura was at Shay’s party, and although Pidge had been offered an invitation, she felt more at home with the boys than she did at a bachelorette thing, so she’d come to Hunk’s. 

“Where’s Lance?” Pidge whispered as they hid behind their furniture after Shiro’s signal, glancing around the room. She supposed that maybe he was just hiding really well, but she hadn’t seen him yet at all that evening, and Keith had seemed in a sour mood. 

“His room,” Keith replied.

“Shouldn’t we get him for the surprise?”

“He won’t miss it; I woke him up a few minutes ago.” 

“He was still sleeping?” Coran asked, astonished, “This late in the day? And on Hunk’s party night? Doesn’t that seem a little odd?”

For the first time, Keith realized that, but it was too late, because they heard the key turn in the lock and Hunk stood in the doorway.

“Surprise!” shouted the group, followed by a weak and delayed one from Lance, who was standing in his doorway, looking drowsy and uncomfortable. 

“Oh my God, guys!” Hunk laughed, “thank you!”

Lance sat heavily on the floor just as someone else knocked on the door, and Pidge and Keith rushed in two different directions. Keith answered the door, while Pidge stooped next to Lance, trying to ask him if he was okay and not getting a reply.

“The stripper is here,” Keith announced, which overlapped with Pidge’s own announcement of “Guys, Lance is fucking burning up.”

“Ooh, I’m on fire too, sweetie,” the stripper, a tall, dark-skinned woman with a pixie cut and elaborate jewelry said, “now; which one of you is Hunk?”

“He’s what?” Hunk fretted, dropping to his knees beside Pidge. 

Of course. Of fucking course. That made so much sense, and Keith hadn’t thought of it. Lance was sick. that’s the only way he’d ever drop the ball on something that was important to Hunk.

Keith rummaged through their medicine cabinet until he found their digital thermometer and brought it to the living room, where the stripper was dragging their dish sponge through a bowl of ice water and over Lance’s face. 

Shiro raised an eyebrow. 

“What?” she asked. “I’m a triage nurse. This is just a side gig.” She turned sharply to Keith and demanded the thermometer, which he relinquished. 

“Jesus,” Shiro muttered when the reading flashed across the screen. “103.9.”

“This is a crappy thermometer, and they tend to read a little low,” the nurse informed. “You need to get this kid to a hospital. This–” she gestured to the scene and then her boom box, “was free of charge. I’m sure your party’s over.”

Keith nodded, kneeling in front of Lance and taking in his flushed cheeks and dazed eyes.

“Why didn’t you say anything about this?” he demanded. “You just let me yell at you about the party.” 

Lance shrugged. “Seemed mad,” he admitted, “didn’t wanna make it worse.”

Okay. Lance had been too out of it to realize that had Keith known that Lance was sick, he’d have dropped the speech and checked him over, not gotten angrier.

“I’m not mad,” Keith promised. “It’s not your fault.”

“But Hunk’s party,” Lance fought as Shiro and Hunk attempted to lift him up to go to the hospital. “We got a stripper n’everything.”

Hunk smiled. “I’m sure we’ll figure something else out,” he promised.

“Something else” ended up being “stuffing dollar bills down Lance’s hospital gown as the nurse undressed him while Pidge played porno music from her iPhone.”

Hunk loved every minute of it.


End file.
